


Preference

by pythia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Modern AU, Second person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 22:05:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19385518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pythia/pseuds/pythia
Summary: There is a strange existential crisis that comes when you realize that your mother likes the woman that you are attracted to, more than you, her son.





	Preference

**Author's Note:**

> Answering an anonymous Curious Cat request from April 2019. “Prompt: Kylo is horribly jealous of how much his family likes Rey.”

There is a strange existential crisis that comes when you realize that your mother likes the woman that you are attracted to, more than you, her son.

It becomes apparent on a rainy Thursday in October, a week before the election.

Rey is staring at her phone, smiling and laughing. She is in the middle of sharing a private, happy moment with someone who isn't you.

A world where that kind of thing would happen seems to be inconceivable.

Anger boils in your stomach, an acidic jealously that eats through the secret affection that you have for Rey in mere moments.

“Shouldn't you be working?” There is a feral snarl in your voice that has been carefully edited out of your emotional repertoire after your late teens.

“I'll tell your mother hello.” Rey’s voice is flat and she doesn't bother to look up. The absence of her hazel colored gaze is a relief. When she doesn't look at you, it is easier to remain opaque, sphinx-like. If she looks at you, you're absolutely sure that you'll be laid bare.

“We're meeting for dinner.” Rey finishes typing her message and locks her phone, jamming it into her pocket. She looks at a point just over your left shoulder.

  
A fleeting idea crosses your mind, to pull off your shirt and beat your chest while yelling. Maybe then she'd look at you. When did you start wanting her to look at you? Fuck.

“Oh.” What is there to say when your dinner will be eaten alone, over the kitchen sink. A sad meal of instant noodles and partially cooked frozen vegetables that you'll shovel mechanically into your mouth. No company. No conversation. Just eating in order to stay alive.

You haven't actually eaten with your mother in years. The dark silence sitting heavy in your stomach like the rich holiday food that you tried to eat.

At some point, you stopped declining her invitations because she stopped making them at some point.

Was it last year? Two years ago? It is hard to pin down with the distance between the two of you lengthened from inches to miles.

Rey smiles awkwardly, raising her eyebrows and awkwardly shrugging before walking away without a word.

You end up leaving work early, burying yourself in bed while it's still light out. There isn't a good excuse for it, other than sleep is the only place where you find relief.


End file.
